


Deep in the Woods

by FrancineFishpaw



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cruciatus, Dark, Deviates From Canon, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Interrogation, Muggle/Wizard Relations, Murder, Non-Canon Relationship, Non-Canonical Character Death, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Resistance, Revenge, Sexual Tension, Sexual Violence, Slapping, Snatcher - Freeform, Torture, Violence, muggle, vulnerable
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-06-03 23:53:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6632152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrancineFishpaw/pseuds/FrancineFishpaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens when a muggle gets caught in the middle of a wizarding war?<br/>Claire is a member of the underground resistance helping witches and wizards escape the increasingly totalitarian Ministry of Magic, one day disaster strikes and she finds herself alone in the woods being interrogated by a Snatcher named Scabior... This is a different take on the events portrayed in the movies, rated M for explicit violence and rape scenes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Deep in the Woods

Her feet pounded against the damp forest floor, but the sound was nothing compared to the thundering of blood in her ears. She felt as if her heart might burst from fear as she sprinted blindly down a slope, bolts of light sporadically flashed past her head, and she would jerk to one side in an attempt to shake off her pursuer. 

They had been waiting for them when they surfaced through the forest floor, blinking into the light after the long darkness of the tunnel, they had waited until they were all out in the open to ambush them. The Snatchers. When the last of the rag-tag group of refugees had emerged, that was when all hell broke loose. Claire had run towards Appleby, the wizard who was meant to grab her and apparate them both away from the danger. But the moment the small man had realised they had stumbled into a trap he had popped out of the air, along with Claire’s chance at escape. She didn’t wait for the screams to start and curses to start flying, she just ran, she abandoned her charges, left them to fend for themselves. She couldn’t have protected them, she couldn’t have done anything for them. That was what she told herself as she ran. Stupid, she thought, just as a curse shattered the bark of a tree next to her head, being the only muggle in a magical battle was like bringing a balloon animal to a gunfight. 

Though it felt like she was dragging shards of glass down into her lungs with each gasp she took, she kept running. The boy chasing her had a bad aim but he was closing the distance between them, she could hear him crashing through the undergrowth in her wake.

Then the ground was rushing up to meet her and her whole body was rattled with a jarring impact. The boy had managed to aim a leg-locking curse that toppled her head first into the dirt. Winded and stunned Claire took a moment to recover, but the Snatcher was already on top of her, he landed a curse like a fist across her head and she was pushed back to the ground. Rough hands had her underneath her shoulders and she was being dragged up onto her feet, he searched her briefly for a wand and when he didn’t find one he stuck his own under her chin by way of a warning. He began pulling her back towards his compatriots, they were both still panting heavily when they returned to the scene of the initial attack. Claire noted the scatter of bodies around her, it seemed the Ministry of Magic had given orders for ‘necessary force’ to be used in apprehending fugitive individuals. Her breath had settled back into her now, and she scowled at the scene around her, there were too many bodies on the ground, too many people hadn’t made it out of there. The Snatchers were a motley crew of dirty, ragged looking men, mercenaries for hire by a government growing more ruthless by the day. 

A man was taking the names of each of them remaining, Claire recognised the two captive men, but couldn’t remember their names, there was also a boy in his teens, Tom, she thought, his name is Tom. Each of their wands was taken from them, Tom gave a violent shove to the heavy set, grim looking Snatcher holding him when his was removed from his pocket. She felt the hands around her arms instinctively tighten, and she became aware of the feeling of hot breath on her neck, she jerked forward but was immediately pulled back into her captor.

Then the Snatcher taking names, he appeared to be the leader of the group, turned and narrowed his eyes at Claire. ‘Well, well, well, this day just keeps getting more interesting,” he had a pinched, grubby face and his flyaway hair was pulled back into a half-hearted ponytail. “And what might your name be sweetheart” “Heather, Heather Graham” She replied, looking him squarely in the eye. It had seemed so funny to her when she had made up her alias, but now that she was staring down a bounty hunter in a forest, the humour no longer appeared to her. “And what exactly was your business in that tunnel today Miss Graham?” “I- I was trying to get away from the Ministry,” she lied, she felt as though he could see right through her. A moment later he was standing too close, she bent her head so that his lips hovered over her forehead when he said very softly “that’s not what I heard.”  
He stepped away and said in a louder voice, addressing the group, “word is, is that there has been some people smuggling going on, right under the Ministry’s noses. Now, this is baffling, is it not? Because it is common knowledge that we have nothing to fear from a Ministry that has been doing an excellent job of managing this country in these past months. Which leads me to suspect that anyone trying to leave the country incognito is in fact hiding something.” He punctuated his last few words with sharp pokes from his wand into Tom’s chest.

Claire cast her eyes around the lifeless bodies on the ground again, these had been people fleeing for their lives, the magical government was cracking down on what it called ‘undesirables,’ mostly people who were considered to have ‘impure’ genealogical lines. People were disappearing daily, as things got worse people had started leaving but the Ministry introduced measures to prevent anyone from leaving the city by magical means. This is where the secret tunnels had come in, an underground resistance, literally. The tunnels moved people outside the Ministry surveillance zone so that they could apparate freely, they were also given new names and places in which to live, a kind of witness protection program.  
Claire joined after her mother had gone missing and she had narrowly escaped being taken herself. The resistance had required someone with a knowledge of the non-magical world, so Claire had been employed as a tutor to teach witches and wizards about muggles, how money worked and pocket calculators. Numbers had started to thin in their ranks when she was asked to take on the duty of shepherding people through the tunnels. She knew she was just one cog in a much larger organisation, and she was only privy to certain information, no one knew the whole story, this way, when anyone was caught they could not give away all of their secrets at once. 

The lead Snatcher was looking into his hand. “Why do I only have three wands here, where’s the fourth?” “She didn’t have one” replied the mouth breather behind Claire. “Did you lose it in the forest love?” he asked her teasingly, “yes” she replied, her heart beginning to race again. 

“You wanna know something funny? I heard they were employing muggles to help ferry criminals to the outside. Is that why you’ve got no wand…are you a muggle?” The others made fake faces of disgust. “My name is Heather Graham, I went to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, I was in Hufflepuff my wand is made from elm, and it’s core is unicorn hair-” she was so nervous she rattled off her story like dot points on a list.

“You take those others to the Ministry,” the leader continued, not taking his eyes off Claire “I think this one needs to be interrogated here. Mason- you go with them” he said this to the boy behind her “but Scabior-“ “Now” Mason gave her a last shove and suddenly Claire was alone in the forest with a Snatcher named Scabior.  
“Please, I just wanted to leave London, it was getting frightening, I-” suddenly his hand was wrapped around her neck and pushing her back. “What’s your name?” he asked “Heather Grah-” he gave her a violent push which made her bite her tongue, “what’s your real name?” “Heather-” “don’t play games with me sweet heart, I know you’re lying to me, and I’m a darn site sure you’re not even a witch…I’ve never been with a muggle before…” his eyes slid languorously downwards, “I wonder if you feel any different.”  
It was her turn to give him a violent push, she aimed a few good kicks to the groin and landed a punch to the side of his head. She made it as far as a dense copse of trees before something wrapped itself around her legs and she landed with a shuddering thud in the undergrowth, she rolled herself over just as Scabior came crashing down on top of her. She yelped involuntarily and tried to push him off, but he quickly had her wrists together and pushed them above her head. They both lay breathing heavily for a moment before he yanked her back up and pushed her against a nearby trunk.  
“You know how much trouble you’re in?” he spoke between gasps, “the Ministry don’t care what happens to muggles… and it’s just you and me out here now darling, so you give me the names of those who outrank you,” he paused to brush his grubby fingers across her cheek, “and it won’t be so bad” She switched her head away from him and stared into the distant trees. When she didn’t respond he pressed his face to hers so that the length of his nose was pushing into her temple. “Nobody is coming for you,” she shook her head, water welling in her eyes despite herself. “I can help you,” she suppressed a sob and he hushed her, “just do as I say, and I’ll take care of you, I’ll protect you I promise” he spoke to her gently, bating her with tenderness, but Claire remained obstinately silent.  
He smirked, she knew because she felt the hiss of warm air on her ear, “what are the names of the people you work for?” she said nothing. “Sweetheart…” he said with mock concern.  
She felt his hand bunch around her shirt and slowly lift it away form her hips, his gaze never left her face until he bent down to her and bit her very hard on the neck. She yelled furiously and kicked out at him again but he simply stepped to one side of her, she was pinioned to the tree and couldn’t turn to face him. He laughed cruelly at her frustration. “Now don’t be like that,” he chided. He came back to face her but she didn’t plan on letting him that close again, kicking out with her legs to keep him as far away as possible. He simply stood in front of her, just out of reach, until she stopped, “you done then?” he asked. He made to move forward and she lashed out, but the Snatcher’s patience had worn thin and this time he didn’t step away, he brought a thick fist down onto the side of her head, knocking her senseless for a few seconds. She felt blood in her mouth as she came to, and became dimly aware that she was being wrenched at, he was pulling at her shirtfront, and the buttons were uselessly flinging themselves to the ground around her. He bit her again on her nape; they were angry bites, full of flesh and rage. Rough hands pawed at her chest and twined themselves into her hair, she kicked and shoved and he kneed her in the stomach, the wind was momentarily knocked out of her and she felt as though she was going to be sick. 

Scabior took this moment to catch his breath and kiss her gently on the jaw, “the names” he asked again “let’s start with yours, my lovely, hm?”  
“Let me down and I’ll tell you,” he laughed out loud in her face, “I like your tenacity, but how about; you tell me and I won’t torture you horribly until you beg me to stop. Nasty little spell we have for just such occasions, did your dirty traitor friends ever tell you about the cruciatus curse?”  
Her body tensed at his words. Even though she was a muggle she knew about the unforgivable curses, she knew why they called them unforgivable. 

“My name…” she said in a hoarse voice, “my name is Claire, Claire Willoughby”  
“See now that wasn’t so hard was it?” Scabior said conversationally, he gently pulled the hanging sides of her shirt back over her chest so that she was covered again. “Now,” he continued “the names, of your, superiors” “I don’t know their names, please, I don’t, they never told us any body else’s name, I knew Pompadour but you already took him. I never met any of the others I just received my instructions by post.” There was a pause while Scabior considered her, “and I thought we were dong so well.” He pulled his wand from his pocket and Claire began to beg, abandoning all dignity as she did so, pleading for him to understand she didn’t know more and if she did- to her shame- she would tell him, she would tell him anything. Scabior raised his wand and uttered a single word, a green light shot out of the end and suddenly Claire’s body was rigid and convulsing where she hung against the trunk. It felt as though a thousand knives were pushing into her flesh and piercing her insides, over and over again. Birds took flight as the wood echoed with her screams. The torture seemed to last an age and when it finally stopped Claire had no idea whether she had been suffering for ten seconds or thirty days. She slumped, sobbing and trying to catch her breath, Scabior smoothed the hair out of her eyes and, with a look that approached genuine concern he said, “I believe you.”

She whimpered as he released her bruised wrists and let her down onto the ground, her legs would not support her. Scabior was still stroking her face, “you did so well, Claire” she shuddered when he said her name, the sound was repulsive coming from his lips. He pushed aside the tattered remains of her shirt to reveal her heaving chest a hand reached to her stomach and pushed and pulled at her button and fly. She didn’t resist him. He pulled off her boots and soon she was feeling the cold forest air press against her naked legs. He was going to make love to her. Love, she realized. Scabior ministered to her gently, he even tried to kiss her on the lips once or twice, though she never responded. She lay inert as he straddled her and snapped her bra so that her breasts lay exposed, and she didn’t push him off when he pulled and sucked at her chest. 

She was staring at the canopy when she finally felt him pushing her legs apart. He didn’t take off his clothes, but reached down between them and loosened his belt before taking himself out and pushing his trousers down over his behind. He found her body yielding, though she turned away from him as he pushed inside her and whimpered pleasure in her ear. She felt Scabior’s weight on top of her and his rough clothes scratching at her bare skin, the spasms of pain in her abdomen, but she somehow didn’t feel connected to any of it, it was as though she were watching it happen to her on a TV screen. Through his ecstasy he cooed loving words into her ear, he told her that she was beautiful, that she had been so good. Each time he used her name she winced.

Eventually his rhythm began to decay into forceful spurts, he clasped her tightly as he came. She felt his full weight fall on her and he lay panting into her neck for some time before he rolled to her side with one leg carelessly thrown over her middle.

It was then that she saw the knife. It was tucked into the top of his boot, the bone hilt protruded slightly from the leather where his leg lay. It happened without her thinking. She reached down and wrapped her fingers around the handle, before Scabior could react she had swung herself over so that she was straddling him. And without hesitation she swung her arm in a wide arc down towards the forest floor. Blood splattered the leaves. The man between her legs was making strange noises and grabbing at his throat, a thick pulsing ribbon of blood was staining his hands. His eyes were wide with shock as he watched Claire raise her arms above her head, and bring them down all too soon towards his chest. 

Claire stood up and watched the body for a moment. She felt ready to leave, so she slowly gathered her things, put her pants back on and fixed her shirt as best she could. She walked back to where the bodies of the escaping witches and wizards still lay. She approached the corpse of a witch, bent over her and rifled through her pockets, she found a wallet and checked the identification inside before flipping it closed and depositing it in her own pocket. She paused for a moment, getting her bearings, then set off towards the west, towards the sunset where she knew, a little way away, there was an empty house waiting for her to move in.


End file.
